


Valentine

by LadyWhite



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AKA, F/M, I said it, Love, Own Character, Sex, True Love, Valentine - Freeform, Valentine's Day, Wow, they do the do, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWhite/pseuds/LadyWhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Rebecca share a valentine's day to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> For Becky

On Valentine’s Day I expected to be woken up by Harry, cheesy grin in place as he hit me over the head with a bouquet of roses. Neither of us, really, would consider ourselves to be romantics because I didn’t really hold with that sort of cheesy nonsense. I’d had boyfriends in the past who tried to do the whole rose and romantic dinner thing but it wasn’t really my thing because I was allergic to roses and didn’t feel comfortable sitting down in a restaurant to eat once in a blue moon because it was a so called ‘special’ day. 

Instead, I was woken up to the smell of cooking- never a good sign because Harry usually burnt things.   
“Harry?” I called out, stretching as I sat up. Our shared bedroom was empty which isn’t unusual because he’s often up early to do this signing or this recording. But, it’s valentine’s day and really, I thought he’d still be here.

Just as I was wondering whether Harry had killed himself with noxious fumes from his cooking, he shoulders his way into our room, through the door. He’s turns, see’s that I’m awake and smiles. His smile is the sort of heart-breaking, leg quivering, melting smile that he saved for me.   
“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” He says as he carries the tray (with unburnt breakfast on??) towards me, placing it squarely on my lap before leaning in and giving me one of those hot little kisses on my lips.

When I open my eyes he is grinning at me, one of those lazy grins that he saves for slow days and mornings because he hasn’t quite woken up yet.  
“Happy Valentine’s day to you too, Harry.” I reply, smiling down at my breakfast. “Did you err, cook this yourself?” Harry does a face of mock horror and sadness.   
“Of course I did! I’m not that bad a cook, love.” He is lying.   
“Well, it looks lovely.” I say, tentatively picking up the fork and stabbing a piece of toast he’s cut into tiny, bite size pieces. 

Surprisingly, the toast is edible. And the bacon and sausage too.   
“Wow. It’s actually edible.” I say, turning towards Harry who is perched on the bed like a puppy waiting to be praised. The bedhead hair doesn’t help.   
“Always the tone of surprise,” he shuffles over until his back is against the headboard, slinging his arm over my shoulders, smoothing circles onto my shoulder.   
“Mhhm… have you had breakfast yet?” I ask, leaning my head onto his shoulder. He smells of yesterday’s aftershave, bacon and something sweeter and more feminine. Me.  
“Yeah, I snacked out when I was making yours.” His voice is still his deep morning grumble which sounds like a big cat growling, seductively. 

When I’ve finished eating, it’s shower time. Apparently, Harry has our entire day planned out.   
“Can’t we just…” I lean in and begin peppering kisses down his neck, which isn’t too hard since I’m sat on his equally hardening lap. “Wait a little bit?” I can feel his heartbeat, fast and hard against my chest.   
“No, Rebecca, I have,” he pulls his head back, kisses my forehead and gently pushes me off him. “A little bit of control. Besides, that’s scheduled for later.” He wiggles his eyebrows in mock seduction at me. I laugh and stand up, walking towards the bathroom.

I can feel his eyes watching me all the way to the door.

***  
“The cinema?” We’re stood outside our local cinema, which is pretty cool because it’s art deco and has a gorgeous frontage.   
“Yeah,” He says, pulling me up the steps and through the door. “I hired it for us.” Wait.  
“What, you hired it out?” I say, stopping and turning to look at him. The reception area is eerily quiet, with just one person at the counter to serve us. It’s a girl, possibly about fourteen.   
“Yeah,” he replies, leaning down to duck a kiss onto my temple before pulling me towards the desk.  
“Hey, it’s Emma, right?” she nods, clearly stage struck by the mere presence of Harry styles. “Well, this is Rebecca, my very special girlfriend.” The girl, Emma, turns to look at me and smiles. 

Since Harry and I started dating things have been a little complicated. Some fans were happy for us, but some were really not. Death threats don’t sound too bad until you’re on the receiving end of them. But, Emma, clearly is one of the many who are happy for us, hopefully.  
“Hey, can I, can I get you some drinks and sweets and stuff?” Emma stutters out, looking between us.

Harry, clearly prepared for my indecision, as he always is, orders us two cokes, popcorn and so many sweets that I can feel diabetes beckoning.  
“I can’t eat all that, Harry! I’ll get fat!” I say, turning to Harry who is beginning to doll out a considerable amount for our purchases. The tip he’s giving Emma is quite large, as is the signed photograph and poster he gives her too and the tickets to his next concert. Emma looks ecstatic.   
“Becky,” he turns to look at me and pulls me towards him until our noses are touching, “you will not get fat and even if you did I’d love you anyway, okay?” Love? L o v e. The word echoes around in my head. I don’t like to throw the word around casually, in fact I only say it sometimes and he knows this so he doesn’t use it casually either.

Did he just say he loved me?

“Did you just say you loved me?” I blurt out, immediately embarrassed. To my surprise, he blushes.  
“Yeah?” He ducks his head a little bit, clearly embarrassed. Does he think I’m rejecting him? “ I mean, I know you might not love me, but I just thought you should know, and god love, I was going to say it in a really classy situation and you don’t have to say it back and-” I cut him off by kissing him, his mouth still open trying to explain his emotions.  
“I know I don’t have to say it back, I know I don’t have to do anything but.” I take a deep breath and let it go, “But, Harry Edward Styles I love you too. Now, let’s go and see this film because you can’t just hire the cinema and not watch the film.” 

He is beaming, smiling to the point where it almost looks manic. But, it is a happy smile, the sort of smile that risks tearing his face apart with happiness.  
“Yeah, love.” 

***

I throw my keys onto the table, and feel Harry’s hands slip around my stomach to link together in front of me.  
“So, you love me too, then?” He whispers into my ear, his head buried in my hair, breathing me in.  
“Yeah,” I breathe out, turning around in his arms and interlocking my arms around his neck. We are face to face, mingling breathes and it’s hot and oh so hot.

When he kisses me, I’m not surprised when his hands sneak their way under my t-shirt to stroke my spine, gently dancing over my bra strap. His fingers dance over my spine, moving in weird patterns.  
“Are you doing chord progressions on my spine?” I ask, pulling back enough to speak. He laughs and it’s a low rumble in his throat and chest.   
“Maybe? I need to practise if I can ever play as well as Niall.” He smirks, and I can feel the form of it against my lips, and then my neck as he trails his lips down that too. I’m not a fan of love bites/ hickeys but when he sucks on my neck I can’t stop myself getting way too turned on. It’s carnal, almost.

My hands work their way under his shirt and trace patterns up and down his six pack and chest. His nipples are like little pebbles under my fingers.   
“Is this later then?” I ask, sucking on his earlobe, my nose buried in his hair. His only response is to gently begin to shuffle my top up my stomach and then over my head. Eye contact is something I struggle with, but with Harry it’s natural because he doesn’t push for it so when we do get eye contact it’s sexy and hot and tense.

When I pull his shirt off I see something new. A tattoo directly over his heart, still a little irritated so it’s clearly fresh. It’s an arrow with swirly marks around it. The swirly marks entwine around the arrow and when I look closely they spell out a word; my name right above his heart.  
“Do you like it?” He is biting his lips a little bit, and in that moment it looks as if he is caught between heaven and hell. His hair, ruffled by my fingers and his eyes so diluted are of hell. But, his face and hands are heaven.

“I love it.” I reply, moving closer towards him. I need to be closer to him, so close that we are not Harry and Rebecca but HarryandRebecca. I crave him like a plant craves oxygen to survive.   
“Good,” his voice is low and dark. It is sensual to just hear him speaking, when he touches me, I can feel it right down to my bones.

He is tracing his name and mine onto my stomach, getting lower and lower until he is unbuttoning my jeans. There is a struggle and I’m momentarily embarrassed. He’s so toned and fit and I’m just. Me. Flabby and thick and fat and what am I doing?  
“Hey, love, what’s wrong?” he stops what he’s doing and looks down at my face.  
“Nothing, I’m sorry I’m fat.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

He is deadly still and for a second I fear that he will agree with me. That he will laugh and call it all a joke.   
“Rebecca Jane. You are not fat. You are as far from fat as is possible. You are a beautiful, hot, sensual and sexual women and I love you for it. I don’t want to make love to a stick. I want to make love to you.” His eyes are so earnest and his face so open that I have to believe him.  
“You sure?”   
“Positive.” He kisses me again, and begins to push me towards the nearest soft surface- the bedroom.

We fall onto the bed, him on top of me. He’s still in his jeans- which I deprive him of immediately. His hands and fingers are swirling patterns down me until they are at the top of my pants. He pulls them down like he is a child unwrapping a Christmas present he’s waited a year for.   
“You okay?” He murmurs as he swirls patterns down my thighs, opening my thighs up.   
“Yeah,” It is a sigh, and he smirks at me. 

And then there is a tentative finger inside me, moving in and out slowly. He is testing the waters, checking that I’m okay. He knows that sometimes I freak out and that sometimes, I really need a lot of foreplay before he can put himself inside me. But, Harry never minds. He understands.

His thumb begins to smooth circles over my clit, still moving in and out inside me. I can feel him smirking above me, enjoying watching me arching my back to reach his hand better.   
“Harry, I do believe that you are enjoying watching me far too much.” I say, dead serious. He laughs, and moves another finger inside me and then another. My hands are moving over him, taking him in too. And then he is speaking, his voice is deliciously deep. I wonder what Emma would do if she could hear his voice this deep.  
“Ready?” He has paused, hovering above me.  
“Positive.” I reply, manoeuvring his boxers off of him and down his legs whilst he reaches across to his nightstand to pull out a condom packet. 

And then he is above me, and then he is in me, pushing into me. It is stretching me, and it’s a bit uncomfortable for a second before it’s suddenly good. More than good.

Harry is still, waiting for me to adjust, gently stroking my hair.   
“I’m okay.” I smile up at him, and he smiles down at me before moving his hips out and then in quickly. He laughs when I gasp, threading my fingers into his hair, twirling it into curls. 

When I ask him to go faster, he is more than happy to comply, pushing me onto the bed further to push himself further into me and harder. God, harder. And there is a building up inside me, a tension coiling up in my abdomen. 

It’s almost painful but if he stops then I won’t be able to stop either. And then oh god. It’s releasing and I can feel my legs shaking and my arms and it’s

When I can think again he his laying on top of me, still for the moment.  
“You in there love?” he whispers.  
“Yeah, are you up there?” I ask, and I see his lips quirk upwards.  
“Because, I have a question.” He pauses, and I get the feeling it’s an important question because one of his hands is clutching something tightly. So tightly the knuckles are white. “Rebecca Jane will you marry me?” he says it so quickly it is almost as if he hopes that I won’t hear him. He says it so fast it is impossible to not notice how nervous he is. 

“Are you serious?” I ask, too in shock to think of a way to censor my thoughts to words.  
“Crystal clear, love.” He says, unclenching his hand to flip open the ring box. The ring is a thin silver band with a sparkling stone in the centre, tinted to look almost blue. Surrounding it are blue sapphires.  
“It’s beautiful.” I say, moving a hand to pick it out of the box.  
“Just like you.” He says, not missing a beat. I raise my eyebrows and he laughs, “I know it’s cliché but you are. Beautiful I mean, not cliché.” He pauses, and I laugh at how nervous this has made him, to the point where his words are uncertain. “So, will you marry me, please?”

I am shocked. 

But, I nod my head and smile as he delicately places the ring over my finger where it sits in place: a tangible and permanent reminder that he will always loves me and that I will always love him too.


End file.
